


The Sword Excalibur

by traptrixnepenthes



Category: Future Card Buddyfight
Genre: Gen, writing things where tasuku gets stabbed is just what i do now i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traptrixnepenthes/pseuds/traptrixnepenthes
Summary: no, not that one. you're thinking of the wrong excaliburthis is another fic written for marumaru96 on tumblr! this time i was asked to write an expansion of a scene from the buddyfight manga--near the end of volume 3, there's a four page sequence where tasuku takes a hit that was meant for jack, and that's the scene i was asked to expand on!





	The Sword Excalibur

There was a scar on Tasuku’s left hand, or maybe it should’ve actually counted as two scars. One was a line across the center of his palm, completely ruining any hopes for anyone who tried to tell his fortune, and the other was spread across his fingers, only matching up as a perfect line when he curled his hand. And, buried somewhere in an evidence storage room, there was a knife whose edges matched up perfectly with the scars that had cut themselves so evenly into his hand.

It wasn’t like he’d never gotten injured before while on the job before or anything--he was good at what he did, yeah, but he wasn’t nearly as perfect as the news tried to make him out to be. It hadn’t been his first injury, and it certainly hadn’t been the last in his collection of scars, but perhaps because it was in such a clearly visible location, it was one of the ones he could still clearly remember the circumstances of.

It had been two years ago, on a clear afternoon when spring was starting to edge its way into summer. The ringleader of a band of thieves had been chased into a park, and Tasuku and Jack had followed him in--it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing an at-the-time newbie should’ve been participating in, but the group had ended up having more ways out than anyone had expected. He’d finally been cornered in the end, none of his men to back him up, and surely nothing else he could use to try and escape.

The Tasuku of now wouldn’t have hesitated or flinched away from a situation like that, but the little eleven year old him of then wasn’t that confident. He was the one who’d cornered the criminal in question and instead of choosing to wait for more experienced backup to go into potential danger, he’d decided to go in himself. It was the kind of brash decision that Tasuku would’ve scolded himself for now, but he still knew that if he were thrown into the same thing all over again, he would’ve done the same thing. So backed by bluff and bluster and a desire to prove himself, he hesitated for all of half a second before stepping into where the thief could hear him.

Jack was with him, right by his side like he always was, but Tasuku’s voice faltered when he tried to tell the crook to stand down. He’d been in the field before, but he’d always had someone like Takihara there to back him up if he screwed up. Of _course_ having Jack nearby was reassuring, but it still wasn’t much in comparison to having an actual trained officer about five feet away from him.

But Jack could do something a trained officer would’ve refused to--pick up the slack. “Surrender quietly!”

The thief turned, eyes darting from the sight of the big scary dragon in front of him to the fence behind him to any potential escape routes--and decided his chances of managing to successfully run away again were slim to none. “Yeah, I'll surrender, dragon…”

His hands moved, reaching behind him, and Tasuku's guard raised even farther. The words of his instructors came to him lightning fast: _In favor of how the bond between fighter and monster form, and how even weak monsters tend to be much more dangerous than any basic terrestrial sort of threat, weaponry such as guns and knives and the like are being used less and less. But that doesn't guarantee you won't end up with someone pulling one on you, so we'll be going over disarming techniques… Hey, Hoshino, do you really think it's okay to be teaching a little kid things like this?_

He had to prove himself. He _had_ to prove himself, or else he’d never stop hearing comments like that when people thought they were speaking quietly enough or from far enough away. Maybe it would just be a card the thief would try to protect himself with, or maybe it’d be something that wasn’t dangerous at all, or--

Tasuku saw a glint of metal, heard a shout, and the next few seconds happened very, very slowly. The thief charged at Jack, and Tasuku felt himself move in front of him before he could even think about it. The knife stabbed at him and he knew exactly what needed to be done--deflect the blow by changing the direction of the arm, grab the wrist to take control of the knife, disarm him--but as he went through the steps, he heard Jack yell something and the thief hit the ground, one of Jack’s arms pinning him down.

“Jack, are you okay?! He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Tasuku’s hand was hurting after the altercation, but it had all ended so quickly that it didn’t seem to be worth worrying about. Pain didn’t matter even a little bit when Jack was the one who’d actually been in danger.

But Jack didn’t seem interested in himself, or even in the thief that was weakly struggling under his claws. “Tasuku! What do you think you’re _doing_ , acting so recklessly like that? I would’ve been fine, and now you’re hurt!”

“Huh?” Hurt?

Tasuku looked over at his hand that was hurting, and there was nothing but a completely unreal sight to greet him. It seemed like instead of grabbing the wrist to try and force a release of the knife, he’d grabbed the blade of the knife itself and wrenched it away from the thief’s hand somehow--the double-edged blade was buried into his palm and fingertips, and deep red blood was oozing over his hand and the sleeve of his uniform. It looked like it should have hurt more than it actually did, but the more he stared at it, the more it _did_ hurt, as if the realization and reaction had delayed themselves until after his adrenaline had started to even out, but even the pain finally coming in force didn’t make it any easier to realize that he had a knife stuck in his hand. “...Um?”

Some part of him wanted to release the knife and run away from it, but that had been in his training too--keep the knife in the wound to staunch the blood flow. It wasn’t like he was going to bleed out just because of a cut on his hand, but the idea of seeing a knife on the ground, covered in his own blood, felt a lot more terrifying than just seeing the knife cutting into his hand. And even worse than seeing his own injury was hearing Jack’s tone of voice, so painfully worried about him.

“It’s--” Tasuku’s voice was wavering so much it almost didn’t sound like he was talking at all. That wasn’t right. He couldn’t let Jack worry about him. “It’s fine, it’s just a little scratch. More important than that, how’s the suspect?”

He kept his voice strong, and he kept his grip on the blade of the knife, even acutely aware of it as he was that it was still there. Jack looked uncertain, but the thief under his claws still hadn’t recovered from getting slammed into the dirt, and hopefully he wouldn’t try fighting too hard against the big scary dragon that had a giant knife on its head until after backup had come to take care of things. And that would be soon enough. He just had to keep it up until then. “...Suspect is secured.”

As if on cue, Takihara rushed onto the scene, and time sped up in the way that things that you’ve already seen take place time and time again start taking no time at all. All he needed to do was ignore the pain, hide the knife behind him, and hope no one noticed the blood spatter in the dirt. Simply standing to the edge of the more experienced officers’ work was enough to keep attention off of him until Takihara, as he always did, came to check up on him once almost everything was finished. “Tasuku, are you okay? Did you get hurt? I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to back you up when you needed it--Tasuku?!”

The incident finally being over, having two trustworthy people in the form of Jack and Takihara nearby, or maybe just finally hitting his limit--one of those was definitely the reason that led to Tasuku’s grip on the knife loosening, and it falling out of his hand and hitting the ground with a dull thud. He felt dizzy all of a sudden, dizzy and tired, and he stumbled forward to where Takihara was waiting to catch him. “I’m okay,” he heard himself saying, but the words sounded like he was trying to talk underwater. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

It was all a bit blurry from there, but he was aware of things like a first aid kit suddenly manifesting in Takihara’s hands, and his fingers and palm getting wrapped in gauze. He’d get told later at the hospital, after his hand got itself stitched closed and wrapped up again, that it was an effect of coming down from an adrenaline high, nothing to worry about too much.

“They’re extensive,” the doctor said, “but ultimately the cuts on your hand are no worse than a particularly nasty kitchen accident. You’re not going to be able to use that hand for a long while, but it’ll heal up eventually. It’s kind of amazing, really.”

“Yeah,” Tasuku replied, still feeling distinctly out of it as he stared at his bandaged hand, “I get told that a lot.”

“This isn’t a joking matter.” Her words were terse, and Tasuku looked up at her sheepishly. “What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that when you’re so young? If you hadn’t been extremely lucky, then you wouldn’t have ended up with only your hand cut up. I don’t know why they let someone like you--”

“I’ve completed all the relevant training,” he said coldly, and she glared at him. It was a power struggle that she clearly expected to win, being the adult, but he’d already learned not to give way just because someone was a little bit older than his eleven years. “Please don’t look down on me just because of my age.”

The doctor frowned at him, looking at him with an expression of weariness and...pity. Tasuku could tell, just from that look, that he wasn’t going to enjoy the rest of his time here.

The next person to ask him why he’d done that was Jack, of course, almost right after he’d stepped out of the hospital, as big and scary as an angry dragon could be--which is to say, not even in the slightest. Sure, it might’ve intimidated anyone else, but Tasuku had already grown accustomed to Jack’s many interesting habits over the last two years of their life together. It was hard to take him seriously when Tasuku knew that his favorite Earth-specific passion was human romance dramas. “Tasuku! You-- How’s your--”

“Look,” Tasuku said, already grinning at seeing how worried Jack had been about him. It was probably a little childish, but it felt nice seeing someone worry about him so much, so he held up his arm to display his bandages. “See? I’m fine! It’s just a scratch.”

Jack growled, which was not the most promising response. “ _Why_ were you so reckless?! A knife like _that_ wouldn’t have hurt me at all!”

“Sorry, sorry!” But still, Tasuku couldn’t help but laugh it off. There was just a stupid smile on his face, a direct result from the warm feeling of someone caring so much about him. “But it’s not really my fault. When the idea that he might be aiming at you instead of me crossed my mind, I just… My body just moved all on its own!”

And just like that, Tasuku watched as all the anger drained from Jack’s body language. It wasn’t like he could argue against that, and it was all completely true. “You…” Jack just sighed and shook his head, his eyes smiling even if his dragon jaws couldn’t. “You’re always such a handful, do you know that?”

“It all ended well so it’s just fine, right? I’ll try to be more careful next time, at least.” Tasuku started walking down the sidewalk, and Jack followed, heavy on his feet. “I should probably contact Mr. Takihara and tell him everything’s okay. And Stella, since she’s probably heard about it by now…”

The list of people that cared about Tasuku that he cared about in turn was depressingly small, but he wasn’t really out here to try and make friends with people--even his classmates and teachers seemed a little bit put off by him, and Jack and Takihara weren’t especially happy with the fact that his only friends were all significantly older than him, but that was just a price that had to be paid in favor of being able to pursue what he really wanted to be doing. “...Oh yeah, and my teachers, too. I’m not really going to be able to write like this, huh?”

The wound was on his left hand, and he was one of those lucky few that happened to be a lefty. If the cut had just been on his palm or something it probably would’ve been fine, but almost all his fingers getting caught up in it too meant probably opening up his carefully closed cuts if he tried to do much of anything with that entire arm. Tasuku sighed, already dreading the conversations he’d need to have with people about it, and decided to take the long walk home with Jack instead of any shortcuts.

Tasuku and Jack’s home was a small apartment located in an out of the way part of the city, one of the few apartment blocks that had managed to survive the Disaster intact and had only needed minimal repairs. Rent had been expensive at first, coming directly out of his parents’ funds, but now that newer, fancier buildings were going up around it it was a little bit easier to manage. Takihara’s home was relatively nearby, and if he’d wanted to actually show up on the man’s doorstep with a few more words about how he’s totally fine and there’s nothing Takihara needs to worry about, he could’ve done that, but instead Tasuku’s first order of business was faceplanting directly into his pillow.

“You said you were going to contact Takihara and Stella, right?” Jack was standing outside his room, talking through the door. It was easy enough to keep him out, since his dragon-clawed hands couldn’t actually twist doorknobs. “I know you’re tired, but--”

“I _know_ , Jack. I’m gonna text them, okay?” Or at least, as best as he could without being able to use the correct hand.

“I’m sure they’re both worried about you, you know.”

Which was a true statement. Tasuku hadn’t bothered checking his phone until after he’d gotten home with Jack, mostly because he didn’t want to see how worried they were, but he had a whole mess of messages from both of them. He’d taken his time looking over them, and while there was one part of him that wanted to remind both of them that he wasn’t a child, he was someone who worked just as hard as the both of them and was their equal and not lesser than them, there was another part of him that felt… “I know that, Jack. I’ll do it before I go to sleep, okay?”

Jack grumbled something at him about being a brat or something, but that was the end of that. Tasuku rolled over in his bed, looking up at the ceiling--above him was the soft light of the glow in the dark stars he’d stuck over his bed. It was childish and he knew that, but in the moment of weakness where he’d asked Takihara if it was okay to put them up anyways so that he wouldn’t have to lose _everything_ he remembered about his old home, the person he admired more than anyone else said of course it was fine. He’d even helped Tasuku put them up.

The knife wound was sort of the same as the stars above him, he reflected--proof that people cared for him. It was kind of embarrassing thinking about it that way, but wasn’t Jack and Takihara and Stella smothering him like this proof that people cared about him, no matter what happened?

Tasuku made himself sit up, reaching for his phone and flicking through the many texts the two of them had sent him. Just like how Jack had been when he’d gotten out of the hospital, it had been a little annoying at first, but all in all, it was just an expression of how important he was to them, wasn’t it? So he had to be just as sincere with them as he was with Jack.

He knew exactly how to start his response to both of them, tapping out two words on the keyboard.

_thank you._

Two years later, those texts and that incident had been mostly forgotten by everyone except Tasuku himself. But the scar itself had stayed, a set of lines that hadn’t been able to heal properly because of a certain eleven year old boy who couldn’t help picking at things, and it had ended up becoming something that Tasuku was glad hadn’t healed perfectly. All of his scars had a story behind them, and if someone asked about how he’d gotten a particular one he’d be able to come up with at least part of how it’d happened, but the one that lined his left hand was definitely the only one he was happy to have. Being able to look at his hand and see it again, one of the symbols he’d picked up along the years of the people who cared so much for him, was the kind of easy thing he could do whenever he needed to remind himself that everything he was doing, all the effort he put in, was definitely worth it.


End file.
